Against all Odds
by akatsukireunites
Summary: Thomas wakes up and finds himself stuck in a new world with no memories. New friendships are formed. Jealousy ensues. And against all odds, Thomas brings hope to the Glade. Newtmas. Newt x Thomas. Canon Verse. (This is a RE-UPLOAD, I took it down and now I'm rewriting it and will plan to finish it)
1. Chapter 1

Day 1

Thomas POV

Thomas swung his ax and struck the bark of the tree.

It has been only one night since Thomas entered the Glade and so far he knew two things. One, no one remembered anything. No one. Apparently, according to Alby, the only thing "they" let them keep is their names. Their past lives and all their memories were stripped away from them. No one knew why they were put here, or why they were chosen. Not to mention the mystery behind who put them there in the first place and for whatever mysterious reason.

Two, Thomas observed that Glade contained only boys and no girls. And that the Glade was surrounded with concrete walls. It was like they were trapped like animals, and for some reason the boys in the Glade were very accepting of it. Even after he tried to check out what was outside those walls, they refused to let him exit those doors or even get near them. Apparently only runners could and there were certain rules that everyone had to abide by.

And yet, Thomas curiosity was not defused. So far he knew that the people of Glade have been here for at least three years. And whoever put them there (some of the boys called them the Creators), sent new supplies or new subjects to join their Glade. And throughout these three years, Alby and the other boys discovered that the only way out is through those walls. It was like a game. Finish the maze and be granted freedom, or stay put and see what happens.

Thomas has been here only for one night and he couldn't keep himself still. He wanted to know what was going on. Why he was put here, why they were all put here, and why they were all frightened to go out into the maze and find a way out from this caged place.

Coming here, Thomas found himself with more questions and not enough answers.

Alby attempted to explain things to him when he came here, but Thomas knew that the elder man was hiding things from him. So he tried to talk to one of the younger, friendlier boys.

He spotted a young boy who was sprawled on the grass, fiddling with an object in his hands.

"Hey Chuck!" He recalled the boy's name.

Chuck jerked his head up and met his eyes in surprise. Thomas wondered if the boy was frightened from him.

"Yes?"

Thomas threw his ax on the grass and looked around to make sure the other boys who were working with him didn't see him slack off. That boy named Newt with the British accent already yelled at him once for lazying about when he attempted to take a quick break.

He walked over to the boy. He tried not to frown to why Chuck didn't get yelled at for not helping, but he stuffed his protests. What he wanted now was not to start complaining, but to receive answers.

"Hey. Can I ask you something?" Thomas asked carefully. He bent down and sat next to him. His eyes flitted toward the blond, British boy and noticed he was still distracted chopping wood.

The other boys teased him and called him "Greenie". He knew that they won't give him the answers he wanted with their bullying. What he needed right now was to make a friend, gain someone's trust.

Chuck stuck the piece of (wood?) in his pocket and gave him a curious glance.

"Sure. Shoot."

"H-How...How come only runners can go through the walls?" Thomas shook his head in confusion. "I mean, wouldn't it be better if more went out and tried to find a way out of the maze?"

"Look, man." Chuck held a hand up and gave a short chuckle. "I understand your new here and all, but that's not how things go here. Not-"

"And everyone just follows the rules with no questions?" He interrupted incredulously. "I would think more would want to go out and help."

Chuck gave him an impatient look. "Do you even know why not all of us want to go out there? There isn't just walls out there you know, newbie."

"And what is out there?" Thomas pressed.

A distant howl and burst of wind suddenly answered his question. Thomas twisted to look at the walls, toward where the sound came from. Even from where they sat, he could feel vibrations from the ground. As if something was moving and jerking, sending vibrations and sound waves. Whatever it was, it was huge.

"W-What was that?" He looked back at the walls with a horrified look. He silently stood up.

Chuck echoed his movements and grabbed his sleeve with his chubby hands.

"Those are the walls in the maze moving. Changing. And that howl?" Chuck let go of his arm and gave a slight shiver. Thomas looked down at him. "Those are called Grievers. They're big as hell and are monstrous. Like I told you, there aren't just walls out there. The maze can't be solved easily and only those who have the experience and running talent can go out there. That's why runners can go only. They leave at dawn when the doors open, and come back before they close at sunset."

"What happens if they don't come back in time?" Thomas asked even though he already knew the answer.

Before Chuck could reply, a twig snaps behind them and interrupts them.

Newt stood behind them, with a slightly irritated look. He brushed the sweat from his forehead and points his axe at Thomas.

"What are doing, shank?" Newt exclaims. "We need wood for the bonfire tonight and you're sitting here and having a chat?"

"Sorry." Thomas mumbles and waves at Chuck before turning and following Newt.

After his conversation with Chuck, Thomas finally realized a possible reason why they were put here. Whoever put them here, they were obviously playing a game with them. There was no other explanation he could think of. The men of the Glade lived together and created a system in order to stay alive and to survive. They worked together. And they sent out the most capable to try to find a way out for them.

But this has been going on for three years and they were still here.

"Hey Newt..." He asked the boy in front of him who swung the axe over one of his shoulder and walked with a limp. Thomas wondered why he was limping but decided he'll ask for that story some other time.

"What is it?" He threw a glance over his shoulders and continued limping. They stopped in front of a rotting tree. Newt leaned against the tree and waited.

Thomas eyes the blond boy and mustered up courage to ask him the question weighing on his mind.

"How does one become a runner?"

Newt furrows his eyebrows and then smirks knowingly.

"Curious to what's out there?" He nudges his chin toward the walls behind them.

"Yes. Isn't everyone?"

"Well..." He pushed himself from the tree and resumed swinging his ax. "Sure, but not everyone has a death wish."

For a skinny boy, his swings were aggressive enough to break through large chunks of the tree. Splinters of bark cracked with each swing. "Alby decides who gets to go out there. Not all of us can become runners. You need to be fast. And I mean bloody fast as hell. Not to mention, you need to be a quick thinker." He jabs a finger to his forehead for emphasis.

"And-"

"Look, mate." Newt intercepts. "You've been here for one day. How about you help out with the firewood for now, alright?"

Thomas yields after noticing the boy's expression, knowing that was all the answers he was going to get for now.

Day 1: Night

Thomas strolls with Chuck at his side, watching the rest of the Glade scream and howl in laughter. For a group who were trapped and surrounded by walls, they still managed to find ways to make their situation a bit better. After spending half the day chopping wood with Newt and the others, the bonfire came out a success. Thomas tried to remember a time where he had a bonfire, but then realized he couldn't remember anything.

"Do you guys do this every night?" Thomas asked Chuck, who was stuffing goat meat in his cheeks.

He eyed the food with distaste. Even though he could hear his stomach rumble in pain from hunger, he couldn't make himself to eat anything. He was still confused, lost, and unsure. He felt like he was trapped in a horrible dream. While the rest of the Glade were chowing and having a good time, Thomas just wanted to spend his time trying to make sense of everything.

"Yeah. It's the only thing we look forward to each night." Chuck answered, swallowing.

They were sitting at one of the wooden tables, watching a group of the older boys form a circle. In the middle stood a boy named Gally, who Thomas remembered to be one fo the boys who called him "Greenie" and constantly teased him. From the start, Thomas knew he wasn't going to get along with him.

"What are they doing?" Thomas stared at one of the boys who entered the circle and tried to tackle Gally. Gally pushed him out of the circle as quick as he entered it. The rest burst out laughing and Gally dared someone to enter.

"It's a game." Chuck explained. "You try to last as long as you can in the circle. You win by pushing Gally out."

"Oh." Thomas nodded. "Why don't you play with them?"

Thomas knew that he was still new here, and that it would take time for him to "fit in". But ever since he got here, he noticed Chuck kept to himself just as much as he did. Thomas just assumed that because he was young, they all treated him like a baby brother and let him do whatever he wanted.

"No way man." Chuck shot him an "are you crazy" look and almost ran away. Thomas watched him in half-amusement.

After Gally continued to try to rattle some of the boys to enter the ring, his arrogant eyes landed on him. Thomas tensed.

"Yo, Greenie. How about you?" He called and all the boys turned to him. Thomas could see Alby and Newt, who were standing on the sides watching him. "Care to try to beat me?"

"I'm good." Thomas declined but Gally seemed to not hear him.

"Show us what you got, Greenie!" He sneered, and a couple of boys scrambled toward him. They pulled him by his shoulders and practically threw him in the circle.

Thomas quickly stood up and his eyes roamed around until they landed on Gally in front of him.

"Look-" He began, but Gally shot toward him and tackled him. Thomas fell in the arms of someone who shoved him back in.

Having no choice, Thomas focused on the boy who looked like he was enjoying this way too much. The boy shot toward him again, but this time Thomas was prepared for him. Quickly, he swept one of his legs beneath the boys feet and he flipped and flopped onto the sand with a thud. The rest of the Glade cheered, while others gave him shocked looks. Before he could celebrate, Gally recovered and shoved him out the ring.

Thomas landed outside the ring. Shaking the sand from his hair, he slowly got up. He could feel Gally's eyes on him for a second, until he went back to daring someone to enter the ring.

He walked back to one of the tables, this time everyone was looking at him with almost respect. Apparently his surprise move against Gally changed everyone's opinion of him. He didn't know what he was supposed to feel about that.

Changing his mind, Thomas moved away from the rest of the Glade and sat on the ground behind a fallen tree. He laid his head behind on the bark and stared at the dark sky.

"No stars..."He whispered.

He didn't know how long he sat there. The sounds of chatter slowly began to decrease. Thomas thought he heard Alby instructing everyone that the party was over, but he couldn't be sure. Eventually his eyes began to close when a large thump beside his left ear startled him. Jerking up, he glanced at the jar filled with some liquid planted on the bark near where his head was before.

"It's either that, or water. That's all we got around here." Newt gave him the jar. Some of his blond hair fell over his eyes, but Thomas could see his eyes dancing as if he was holding in a grin.

"What is it?" Thomas reached for the jar. Newt slid next to him, taking a gulp from his own drink.

"I have no idea." Newt smirked at him, taking another gulp. He swirled the liquid in his jar and shrugged. "It's not so bad."

Thomas eyed the drink worriedly. He remembered that he skipped out on dinner tonight.

He took a tentative sip.

And then just as quickly he spit the entire thing out.

"W-What the hell is this?!" He coughed and belched.

Newt laughed, throwing his head back. "Like I said, no idea."

"You did that on purpose." Thomas shook his head humorously.

"Maybe." Newt joked.

They sat in a comfortable silence. In the distance, Thomas could hear a shrieking sound of the walls moving.

"The maze is changing again." Newt commented, stating the obvious.

"This happens every night?" Thomas asked.

"Every night." Newt repeated with a nod.

Another silence crept between them. Thomas was about to get up and call it a night when Newt's next words stopped him.

"I heard you wanted to become a runner."

"How did you-?"

"I overheard you talking with Chuck earlier today." He explained, not one hint of shame in his voice for eavesdropping.

Thomas twisted to look at the blond boy. He gave him a hesitant look.

"Ease up, I'm not going to yell at you." Newt smirked and Thomas relaxed.

"Um.."

"I used to be runner, you know." Newt looked at him thoughtfully. "I was just like you. So bloody eager to know what's behind the walls. I had to earn Alby's trust first of course. And when I finally proved it to everyone that I could become a runner, they let me in."

"You were runner?" Thomas gaped. "But your limp..."He quickly shut his mouth, hoping he didn't offend the boy.

"Yeah..."He laughed shortly. He gave him a sad smile and Thomas looked uncomfortable for a second. "I was so bloody excited for becoming a runner, I couldn't wait to see what's out there. But I soon began to understand why everyone was frightened to go out there. Out there, you never know whether or not you'll come back alive."

Thomas listened to his story intently, watching the wave of emotions flashing through the boy's face. Thoughtful. Distant.

He continued. "Then one day, I screwed up. I didn't listen to the rest of the runners in one of our runs, and got caught up in a fight with one of the Grievers. Thankfully, I managed to get away in the end. I survived, but ended up with a limping leg."

"What happened...afterwards?" Thomas asked curiously.

"Alby felt bad for me, so he made me second-in-command. He knew with my limp I can't run again. Probably felt mad for me, that bloke." He rolled his eyes.

"I don't think so." Thomas argued, pitying the boy. "Surely he gave you that position because of your leadership skills."

"Leadership skills?"

"Ah yeah, I mean I see how you order everyone and they all listen to you. Even that stubborn Gally guy, they all listen to you. Even though you can't run anymore, you're still important. Everyone can see how Alby trusts you to take care of things, like with making sure everyone is in line. Everyone respects you..." Thomas sensed that they he was going overboard with his praises because something unexpectedly happened that made him pause.

Newt was blushing.

"Really?" He looked away.

Thomas nodded. Newt took another large gulp of his drink, drowning the entire drink. Thomas stared at him with incredulity.

"What?"

"Why the hell do you drink that?"

Newt burst out laughing and Thomas beamed.

"You get used to it, mate. Trust me. Like I said before, it's either this or water."

"Then I'd take water any day."

They shared a grin.

End Day One


	2. Chapter 2

Day 2

Newt POV

It didn't take long since the newbie got here that Newt found himself befriending the boy. Unlike the previous arrivals, this bloke was eager to know what's going on. Usually, it took about a week for the newbies to start asking questions. And then another week for them to finally fit it and realize their stuck in this hell hole.

But not Thomas. His constant questioning and childlike curiosity would have been annoying if they weren't amusing. This morning Newt found Thomas trying to grill through one of the runners, Minho, and Newt had to practically the shove the boy away so the runners could set out and enter the maze.

Curiosity like that could get a bloke killed. He knew that Thomas wanted to be a runner. Hell, everyone knew. But it was dangerous and Thomas exerted an aura that almost attracted danger.

Which is why Alby decided Newt to keep watch on him. Guard him without making it obvious. And so they were now busy working on the garden, but every few minutes he'd look up and see the boy distracted. After the third time, Newt raised his eyebrows.

"What are you looking at?" Newt asked.

Thomas had stopped plucking weeds and was busy staring out in the distance. In fact, he was doing that for about a minute, and Newt just realized that throughout that time he was also busy staring at the boy.

Thomas's eyes darted into his and looked confused.

"You keep staring off in a distance." Newt explained.

He turned to look at where he was staring at and he sighed. Not more than twenty feet away, the large, looming doors of the maze was located. Shadows covered the walls, weed splattered against the sides of the walls. A rush of air swept past them and he looked back at Thomas.

Newt bent down and plucked the weed that was tangled with the crops, careful not to accidentally pluck out a vine that carried the cucumbers.

"What..." Thomas began, looking unsure.

"Go on." Newt urged.

Thomas shook his head, as if to clear it. Then he leaned toward Newt. "What do the runners do exactly? I know they are trying to find a way out the maze, but you guys have been doing it for three whole years and still haven't found a way out."

"Still on that runner conundrum?" Newt pulled out a weed and threw it over his shoulder, before glancing back at him. "Mapping the maze isn't particularly easy. When a runner goes out there, he's risking his own very life. You know what a Griever is?"

"Chuck mentioned it to me." He nodded, still leaning toward me. What a eager bloke. Newt held back a grin.

"Right, well those bloody beasts roam the maze. The only reason we haven't succeeded yet because of them. They make it quite difficult to map out the maze. As soon as their eyes land on a runner, the only thing left to do is to run for your life. Not once did we ever kill one of them."

"It's like a game." Thomas murmured quietly.

Newt looked at him, considering. "How so?"

"I mean, it's like we've been put here for the purpose of escaping. But those Grievers are our obstacles that we need to overcome before we can finish the maze and win the game." He explained.

"It's not possible to overcome that obstacle though." Newt dismissed his explanation. "No one, not ever, killed a Griever. We have no means to kill them off."

"The runners go out there defenseless?" Thomas gave him a shocked look.

"Well, we have sticks that we turned into spears if that counts for something." Newt shrugged. Wiping the dirt from his trousers, he stood up.

Thomas remained crouched on the ground, contemplating Newt's words.

Newt gave him a half-smile. "Now enough chatting and go get us some fertilizer."

"What?" Thomas craned his head to the side in confusion, the moles over his neck in clear view.

"Fertilizer." Newt repeated, grabbing a nearby pail and threw it toward the boy who struggled to catch it.

He watched the boy trudge toward the forest, practically stomping his foot as he went along.

Newt grinned slyly and took a shovel and began to dig into the ground. Nearby, Winston who was filling the brown bag with the disposed weeds saw him grinning.

"Something funny?" Winston asked.

Newt shook his head and forced himself to look stoic, his usual expression.

Day 2: Afternoon

"Alright, the weeds are out." Newt announced. "Now all we need is to plant the new bushels."

"One problem." Winston called, raising a finger.

"What?" Newt stared at the boy, and he pointed toward the soil without saying anything.

Recognition flashed through him. Newt just realized that Thomas haven't returned with the fertilizer yet.

"Think he got lost?" He heard someone say. Newt looked up with a glare.

Before he could snap at that boy, he heard a scream.

"What-"

Thomas emerged from the forest screaming "Help!", and a boy, who Newt recognized as Ben, chasing after him.

The rest of the Glade, with Alby in lead, ran to help and find out what was going on.

"What is going on?" Newt heard Alby shout. Thomas was suddenly tackled into the ground, with Ben on top snarling. He moved to punch Thomas, and Newt ran toward them. Gally grabbed Ben from the back, while Newt grabbed Thomas from under and pulled him away. They all stared at Ben in shock, as he struggled in Gally's clutches.

"This is all your fault! All your fault!" He jabbed his finger toward Thomas, yelling and jerking like a crazed animal. Gally tightened his hold on him.

Newt could feel Thomas suck in a sharp breath.

"Thomas..." Newt began, turning toward the boy who was shaking in fright.

"What does he mean that it's my fault?" Thomas looked at him in confusion.

Before he could answer that he didn't know, Alby's voice interrupted them. "He's been stung."

Everyone gasped. Newt glanced at Ben and noticed all the symptoms. His fingers shaking, body twitching every few seconds, his pupils dark as coal.

"But it's daytime..." Newt said slowly, looking at Alby.

"We'll worry about that later. For now, he needs to be put in the pit." Alby told Gally, who began to pull Ben away.

"No! No!" Ben shrieked in a panic. "Please no! I didn't mean to! This is not my fault! It's his fault!" He begged and glared at Thomas who was frozen. Newt put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

"What's going to happen to him?" Thomas asked him.

"Same thing we do to anyone who gets stung. We get rid of them." Newt stared at the crowd of boys helping Gally take Ben away.

He turned back to look at Thomas. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

Newt somehow knew he was lying.

Day 2: Night

"What's going on?"

Newt held onto a stick they brought out for incidents such as these. Gally threw Ben into the circle they formed in front of the maze doors. It was nearing sunset, right before the maze doors automatically shut. The runners returned no more than ten minutes ago and Alby informed them of the situation. They joined them with the disposing.

"We're pushing him out." Newt told Thomas, who was watching them from the sidelines.

Thomas stayed silent and remained standing next to young Chuck. The maze doors began to scream with life and close in. Quickly, ignoring Ben's urgent pleas, they moved in and kept pushing until Ben stumbled inside the walls.

The maze doors slammed shut, the ground rumbling. Silence slid among the boys until Alby clapped his hands and told them that the party was over.

"This is so fucking weird. Kinda funny that shit happens like this right when Greenie shows up." Newt heard Gally sneer as they walked back.

Newt couldn't stop his next words. "What do you mean by that Gally? Thomas is one of us."

Gally raised his eyebrows and defended himself. "You heard what Ben said. This is his fault. We never had anyone get stung in the middle day. Not until that twit came along."

A few boys overhearing their conversation stopped and watched. Thomas stood aside and looked at Gally uncertainly.

"And how is it his fault, exactly? Did he tell Ben go get stung in the middle of the day?" Newt argued. Inwardly, he was wondering why he was so rigid on defending the boy.

Gally opened his mouth to argue, but Alby crossed to where they were and stepped in the middle. "Arguing isn't going change things." He bellowed.

Alby gave them a disappointed look. "We have each other. That's all we have. We need to work together. Always. We don't have time to point fingers."

Newt nodded and resumed walking. He heard Gally curse as he walked the other direction.

"Come on, Thomas." Newt told the boy who was watching their exchange with a uneasy look, stringing him along.

Thomas gave him a grateful smile. Newt didn't return it.

End Day Two


	3. Chapter 3

Day 3

Thomas POV

Thomas woke up the next day with the biggest headache. All night he tried to fall asleep, but yesterday's events remained vivid on his mind. Not to mention the flashes of confusing images kept blaring in his head, keeping him awake at night. An image of him on a hospital bed kept popping in his head, a voice of a woman calling his name, and then lots of water.

Newt told him that everyone remembered their names only, so he didn't know what to make of those memories. Were they his? Or were they conjured up dreams? Or something else?

Thomas chose not to dwell on things he didn't know. Alby had told him yesterday that he wanted to show him around, so he got up from his hammock to look for him.

On his way toward's Alby's small home, where the leader of the Glade slept, he was intercepted with a blond boy who stopped him in his tracks.

It was Newt.

"Where you heading to mate?" He spoke with his British accent, blocking out the sunlight from his eyes with one of his hands.

"Alby. He told me he was going to show me around the Glade." Thomas explained to the second-in-command.

"Alby's not here." Newt replied. "He left with the runners this morning."

"What? Why?" Thomas asked, eyes widening. He didn't know that Alby was a runner as well!

"He had to. Ben used to be a runner, and someone had to take his place." Newt answered with a nonchalant shrug. "Now come on, I'll show you around instead. After all, I am the second-in-command when Alby is not here."

Thomas nodded and followed the blond boy.

They walked in a comfortable silence, pausing from time to time so Newt would explain what each place was and what each built home was used for and for whom. It was like a mini village or a campsite. The homes were made of twigs from trees tied with plant roots. The hammocks were created from the blankets the box sent up with supplies. The food was planted, while the meat was hunted. Each person in the Glade was responsible for something. When Alby said that they were all in this together, he really meant it.

"Thanks for defending me yesterday." Thomas suddenly remembered Newt's and Gally's small argument last night.

Newt looked at him momentarily before looking away. "I wasn't really defending you, more like reminding Gally about our rules."

"That we have to stick together?" Thomas affirmed.

"Yeah. That's all."

"Still...thanks." Thomas repeated. So far, since he got here, Chuck, Alby, and now Newt were the only people he was fond of. Chuck was nice to be around, he didn't judge. Alby was another guy he liked being around, his sense of fairness made things easier for him here. And Newt. If he wasn't stuck in this sick game or whatever this place was, he knew that back in the real world they would have been best friends. He enjoyed being around him, he was easy going.

Newt only nodded and gave a faraway glance. "Right. Well, we need to get back now."

He turned and began to walk back toward where the rest of boy's began to wake up.

Thomas looked at his tense back with a confused look. Shaking his head, he scrambled after him.

Day 3: Afternoon

All day, Newt remained distant from him. They were supposed to be working on fixing a roof of one of the houses. Chuck, who Thomas finally managed to convince to get up on his ass and help, collected twigs and branches from the forest floor, while Thomas, Winston, and Newt worked on the roof. It took some convincing from Winston and him for them to finally convince Newt to join Chuck, since with his limp they didn't trust him to keep his balance on the roof. With deep reluctance, he glared at both of them before finally yielding.

"You think Newt is mad at us?" Thomas asked Winston after ten minutes since Newt left.

He grunted as he twisted the roots Chuck brought from the forest for them and began to tie to branches together. Thomas bent down to help him, holding onto the two branches while he tied them to the shaky roof.

"Why would he be?" Winston asked.

"I dunno," Thomas shrugged. "He looked upset when we told him he couldn't help out with the roof for one."

Winston waved his worries away. "Nah, he's always like that. He's Newt." He said as if that explained everything.

Thomas peered down to where Newt was leaning against a tree. His blond hair ruffled in the wind, his arms crossed over his chest. He still had that distant look, even while instructing Chuck. As if he sensed his eyes on him, Newt glanced curiously up at him.

Flushing in embarrassment for being caught staring, Thomas resumed his own work. Whatever was up with Newt, Thomas figured it was just part his character. Winston seemed think this was normal, and he knew him much longer.

Pushing his confusing thoughts away, he focused on his task all the while wondering what Alby and the runners were doing in the maze at that moment.

He soon got his answer later that night.

Day 3: Night

After a long day with tiresome work, the Glade gathered up around the entrance of the maze awaiting the runner's return. It was almost night time and so far there were no signs that they were back. Muttering rumbled among the boys, as they stared into the maze with nervous glances.

Newt stood beside him with a stoic look. While everyone looked nervous, he was the only one who maintained a calm, composed look. Thomas admired his unwavering trust in his friends to make it back.

"Do you think something happened to them?"

"Usually they are back by now.."

"What's going on?"

"Maybe they got stung like Ben.."

A wave of worry spread through the boys, while Newt kept his gaze planted in front of him.

"When is the doors going to shut?" Thomas asked him.

To answer his question, the doors rumbled and began to move to close together. Everyone gaped in horror as they realized that the doors were going to shut before the runners came back. Something did happen.

Newt clenched his hands in fists at his side.

Some of the boys began to turn around and head back, accepting the runner's fates with a disheartened expression.

Suddenly a boy who Thomas recalled named Frypan shouted, "Look! They're here! Guys!"

Inside, Minho was dragging Alby over his shoulders.

The boys began to shout frantically. "Hurry! Hurry!"

"You can make it. You're almost there!" Chuck yelled. They all huddled near the entrance.

Thomas gulped soundlessly. He knew, without a doubt, that at this rate they weren't going to make it. Unless Minho left Alby behind, there was no way.

"Leave him! Save yourself!" Gally screamed at Minho. Thomas saw Minho shake his head in protest and continued dragging Alby along.

"I'm not leaving him behind!" He shouted back.

Without thinking, Thomas ran toward the entrance. He felt Newt grab onto his shirt, but he jerked him away and ran. The walls crept closer and closer together, until he finally managed to squeeze through.

"Tommy!"

Newt's urgent plea was the last thing he heard before the concrete walls clamped shut and he was greeted with silence.

End Day Three


	4. Chapter 4

Day 3 (Continued)

Newt POV

The walls closed with a thunderous sound and everyone stood still, mouths gaping and full of shock.

Newt stared at the closed doors, panic and dread filling his chest.

 _No. No. No. No!_

"Oh no..." Chuck whispered beside him.

"Shit." Gally said from somewhere afar.

When the crowd diffused, leaving Newt and Chuck behind, Newt slammed his fists against the maze walls. Sudden realization that his friends are currently trapped in the maze overnight blasted him. He pounded his fists into the walls, willing the walls to open with his mind. But to no avail, his efforts were futile. Instead, he was rewarded with only bloody knuckles.

"Dammit!" He growled in defeat, ignoring the pain.

Newt knew that bloody idiot wanted to become a runner. But he didn't think he was daft enough to run inside in the middle of the night, right when the walls were closing. Newt had tried to grab him and stop him, but he was too quick and then it was too late. He wanted to run in after him, but the walls closed too fast and even if he did, his leg's limp would have held him back. He told him before. No one survived the night. Not one stupid bloke. So why? Why did he have to have possess some bloody heroic complex and risk his life?

"Come on, Newt..."

Newt paused his hopeless pounding and looked down at the young boy. He was peering at him with a pitying expression.

"We can't do anything, Newt. Let's just hope they make it out alive-"

Newt shook his head frantically. He let out a tired laugh. It came out as a choked cough instead.

"No. No one ever survived before. You know how it is, Chuck."

"I don't get you! Before, you used to be the one who convinced everyone that the runners will make it on time every time they came back late. Why are you acting different this time, Newt?"

"This time is different, Chuck!" Newt burst.

"How, man?" Chuck shook his head, unconvinced and relentless. "You're just acting like this because Thomas went in after them and you couldn't do anything because of your leg!"

Newt froze.

Chuck's eyes widened slightly as he realized what he just said.

"I-I'm sorry, man." Chuck quickly apologized and Newt grit his teeth.

"Shut up, Chuck."

"I'm sorry." He repeated, fiddling with his wooden toy. "I'm just saying that you need to trust them to make it back. Remember what Alby says? We stick together. Thomas has Minho who is our best runner. They'll come back together. I know they'll be fine."

He's just a kid. A naive kid. Newt chanted in his head, barely containing his anger. He took a deep breath and looked at him sternly.

"You saw Alby! He was stung! And Minho was hurt too." Newt argued, refusing to let the boy's hopeful optimism seep in. "And now Tommy is stuck out there with them! He's not a runner, never been inside there. He'll hold them back even more. If they survive the night, it'll be a fucking miracle!"

"Well, I think they can make it. I'm not giving up on them." Chuck claimed stubbornly, clinging onto his wooden toy, as if he was drawing energy and support from it. "I thought you would have more confidence in Thomas, but I guess not..." He added quietly.

"What?" Newt pushed himself off the wall and gave him a weary look. "What are you babbling about?"

"Thomas. Aren't you friends with him?" Chuck asked pointedly, looking up at him.

Newt nodded, still confused."Yes...?"

"Alright then, man. If anyone can make it out, I know Thomas can. Since he came here, I knew he was one crazy guy. I know he'll make it. And bring Alby and Minho with him too." Chuck replied, looking back toward the walls with the utmost confidence.

Newt envied the boy's refusal to dwell on anything but the bright side.

"So stop looking so depressed, Newt. He'll be back." Chuck continued. He gave him a weak smile, his chubby cheeks showing his dimples. "Thomas will come back."

Newt frowned. "I'm not _only_ worried about Thomas."

"You called him _Tommy_." Chuck grinned and Newt tried not to blush.

 _Did_ he call him that? When he saw him run into the maze, the only thing on his mind was to stop him in some way. He didn't really register what he called out to him.

"Oh. I...I guess I did." Newt shrugged and looked away.

And so what if he did?

Day 4: Morning

Before the sun rose the next day, Newt was already out of bed. He couldn't sleep well that night. He couldn't stop thinking of how Thomas was out there, alive or dead. The thought of Minho with him only made him feel slightly better. He knew he should have been more worried about Alby and his condition, he did know that man longer than Thomas, but he couldn't help it.

If Alby was really stung, he was already a goner.

But Thomas. That bloke have been here for _only_ three days. And throughout those three days, Newt spent talking to him longer than he did with any of his other friends. It did help that he was assigned to watch over him, but Thomas used that to his advantage by striking up a conversation with him whenever he could. Slowly, a friendship formed between them. He was great guy. Although, sometimes Newt saw him staring off in a distance, looking lonely than ever and lost in whatever world he slips into. Newt knew there was more to the bloke than he let on.

It's hard forming friendships among the Glade, knowing at any second that one of them might die. Which is why Newt tried to keep his interactions with the other blokes to a minimum. Only Alby and maybe Chuck were his real friends. Minho wasn't so bad either, but he was a runner and his chances of surviving was slim. And no one should want to befriend a runner since they risk their lives on a daily basis and attachments to them can be tiresome and painful.

When Thomas began to talk about how he wanted to be a runner, Newt tried to convince him otherwise. Instead, it only made him even more determined. And now that stupid idiot was out there possibly dead.

The rest of the Glade started to wake up and Newt swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing. His throat felt dry. He plastered a stoic, unreadable expression. Standing in front of the closed maze doors, he waited.

Chuck joined him few minutes later, still fiddling with his beloved toy.

"They're going to make it, man. I know it." The curly-haired boy murmured softly, twisting the wooden toy in hands.

Newt nodded, but didn't say anything. He didn't trust himself to speak, afraid that he'll start snapping at the boy. _No one_ survives the night, didn't he understand? Why was he still thinking that they will? Newt had to remind himself that he was still a kid. He was naive.

But Newt couldn't help but wonder why he was standing here right now, himself hoping that when the doors opened, they'll be on the other side of it. That as soon as the walls would slide open, he'd see Thomas and his dumb moles on the other side.

"If they make it, I'm going to kick Tommy's arse." Newt joked halfheartedly.

Chuck grinned up at him.

"They'll make it."

Newt prayed he was right.

A crowd gathered around them, as they all waited for the sun to rise and the doors to open. When the sky began to lighten up, a wave of nervous tension spread through them. Newt clenched his fists, flinching a bit from his injured knuckles from last night, bruises still tender.

The maze doors rumbled with life and began to open. Newt relaxed his fists. He scrambled closer to the doors, Chuck on his heels.

Before the doors opened wide enough to see the other side, Newt closed his eyes in fear of seeing no one.

"There's no one there..." He heard Clint whisper his fears.

"Shit." Gally said on his other side.

Newt felt Chuck clutch his arm. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see what he suspected all along. No one on the other side.

No one survived the night. Even with a stubborn, heroic-complex freak like Tommy.

No one.

With his eyes cast downward, Newt felt a hollow feeling developing from his core. Did he really just lose two friends? And another who he sometimes felt like the closest thing to a brother?

At that moment, Newt wanted nothing but to be left alone. Now that Alby was gone, as second-in-command, he had to...had to...

His thoughts were interrupted.

"L- _Look_!" Suddenly Gally shouted. "It's them!"

Newts eyes shot upward, startled. His eyes widened.

Bloody hell.

On the other side, stood three idiots, just turning the corner and coming into view. Well, more accurately, two standing shanks dragging along an unconscious one.

"Oh my god! They made it!" Chuck shouted hysterically at his side, jumping up and down in sheer excitement. Disappointment and senses of tragic loss was transformed to happiness and waves of relief among the gladers. A number of them ran toward where Thomas and Minho were dragging along Alby to help them out. Newt stood still at the entrance, in shock and disbelief.

They're alive.

As they drew near, Gally and the others held onto Alby, while Thomas and Minho stepped aside to catch their breath.

He heard Wintson shout that should they take Alby to the med jacks. Without speaking, Newt nodded to him and they took Alby away. There was an unspoken agreement among the Glade that since Alby was injured and incapable of leading them, everyone would take their orders from Newt.

They carried Alby, walking past Newt and Chuck. Just like he suspected, Alby was stung. Newt didn't know how the med jacks would help him, since they didn't help Ben very much, but he wasn't going to dampen the boy's feelings. Not yet. Not when they just found out their friends came back safely.

"If something happens to me, you're their leader." Newt remembered Alby's words when he made him second-in-command. He didn't realize that day would actually come. Maybe because he never dreamed it would come in the first place. It was Alby. The man who most of the boys considered as their father figure. The man who entered the Glade before all of them.

Newt turned toward Minho and Thomas, who were still panting breathlessly.

"What happened?"

Before one of them could answer, Chuck interrupted.

"I can't believe you guys survived the night! Newt thought you guys were going to die for sure..." He exclaimed, practically jumping with each word he uttered. Newt glared at him, but he kept going. "But I told him you guys would come back for sure! You guys are so epic!"

Thomas smiled at the excited boy. "I can't believe it either, Chuck. Trust me, I didn't want my first time in the maze to be at night."

Something cracked in Newt.

"You weren't even supposed to go in!" Newt snapped fiercely.

Thomas jerked, taken aback by his reaction.

"I know, Newt...I'm sorry. But-"

"We'll discuss this later." Newt intercepted coldly.

Thomas shot him a guilty look, quickly shutting up. He took a step toward Newt, but Newt shook his head once, promptly stopping any apology or excuse he had conjured up at that moment.

Newt avoided Thomas's pleading gaze and spoke to Minho directly.

"How did Alby get stung? He never had any trouble when he went out into the maze before."

"I don't know how it happened either. We were running in section seven and we split up for like a minute. One second I was running, and then next, a grievor pops out. Not long after, I was dragging a stung Alby back." Minho explained with a tired sigh.

"And how the bloody hell you guys survived the night? And still managed to bring Alby back, with him being stung and all?" Newt asked curiously.

"Who cares Newt?" Chuck said. "What matters is that they made it back." He spoke happily, although there was underlying curiosity beneath his tone as well.

Minho and Thomas exchanged a look.

Minho spoke up. "Well, Alby got stung and I knew that there was no chance for him to live. I was about to leave him behind, but this shuck refused to leave him behind. We tied him to a rope against one of the walls, but then a grievor showed up."

Newt and Chuck tried to soak in what he just said, wondering how they managed to tie Alby against the wall, but they didn't question it. Chuck was right. What mattered now was that they came back in one piece.

"And then this idiot..." Minho continued, shoving Thomas's shoulder, shaking his head in disbelief. "This idiot killed a freaking Griever."

Newt's eyes widened, jaw dropping. He glanced at Thomas, who plastered a sheepish look.

Chuck let out a whoop, while the other boy's who lingered behind listening to their conversation had expressions varying from disbelief, shock, and a mix of worry and confusion.

"H-how is that possible?" Newt couldn't help but ask. He met Thomas's eyes who stared back.

"Newt..."

"Newt! Get over here!"

Thomas was abruptly interrupted. It was Gally, his shout coming from where they took Alby.

Without another word, they took off in his direction. They scrambled inside, following Gally.

"What's going on?" Newt asked, authoritative. He moved closer and peered at Alby. They had taken his shirt off and had tied him to the bed.

"He woke up." Gally explained with a confused expression. "Well he was awake a second ago..."

Alby's eyes were shut, sweat covering his chest. Thomas stepped closer to check whether or not he was breathing.

"Alby, are you.."

Instantaneously, Alby eyes flew open and he began to writhe in his bed, pushing against his binds. They all jerked back with startled expressions. Newt looked down at his friend with a worried expression. Dark pupils colored Alby's once brown eyes. He squirmed and let out an animalistic growl, the bed jerking with every move he made.

"Shit, Alby! Calm down!" Gally begged, holding him down. Thomas moved to help him.

Alby turned toward Thomas when his hands touched him and snarled. He sounded like a starved animal, or feral one. Whichever.

"You! You're one of them!" Alby roared. "You're one of them! It's all your fault."

His words sounded eerily similar to Ben's.

Thomas looked deeply offended and full confusion as Alby continued to hurl more and more vicious words at him. All of which contained blame for something Thomas have done.

Newt pulled Thomas back, noticing his expression. It was full of betrayal.

"He's not in his state of mind." Newt tried to comfort him, explaining Alby's irrational behavior, although he was starting to become uncertain himself.

Thomas nodded stiffly.

Newt looked around the room. The boys were all standing, surrounding Alby on the bed. After seeing their own leader acting like a ravaged animal, their morale's seemed to have dropped. Meanwhile, Gally kept glaring at Thomas. Newt could tell from one look on his face that he somehow managed to connect everything that happened to Thomas.

This was not good. Now that Alby was out, Newt knew things were going to get bloody difficult.

It was time to regroup and call for a meeting.

But before that, he wanted to talk to Thomas.


	5. Chapter 5

Day 3: (Night) 

Thomas POV

* _Previously_ *

Thomas gulped soundlessly. He knew, without a doubt, that at this rate they weren't going to make it. Unless Minho left Alby behind, there was no way.

"Leave him! Save yourself!" Gally screamed at Minho.

Thomas saw Minho shake his head in protest and continued dragging Alby along.

"I'm not leaving him behind!" He shouted back.

Without thinking, Thomas ran toward the entrance. He felt Newt grab onto his shirt, but he jerked him away and ran. The walls crept closer and closer together, until he finally managed to squeeze through.

"Tommy!" Newt's urgent plea was the last thing he heard before the concrete walls clamped shut and he was greeted with silence.

The walls shuddered close behind him.

"You're fucking dead." Minho said after a moment of silence.

"What?"

"What did you think after you ran in here? That you'd save the day?" Minho snorted. He held onto Alby and began to move toward a nearby wall. Thomas moved to help him, grabbing Alby's other arm and set it over his shoulder. They both set him against the wall, careful not to hit his head against the wall as he slumped down.

"No." Minho continued. "No, you just signed yourself a death warrant. Good job." He patted his back roughly, walking away.

Thomas looked up. The sky had darkened, the sun setting. He looked back at Alby, lying unconscious. They couldn't just leave him here.

"Minho, wait!" Thomas yelled. Couple of feet away, Minho stopped and looked back.

"What? Why are you still standing there?" Minho asked, eyes darting around. "It's getting dark. We need to find some place to hide before the grievor comes out."

Thomas gulped. "And what about Alby?"

"Are you blind? He's been stung."

"But we can't just abandon him!"

"He'll slow us down! Are you trying to get us killed?"

"If we _leave_ him here, he'll get killed! Do you not care what happens to Alby? You know him way longer than me!"

"I know him long enough to know that he'd understand if we ditch him! It's getting dark and we're trapped here overnight. We don't have time to fucking argue!"

And with that, Minho stomped away not caring if he was following. Thomas clenched his hands in fist, debating whether or not he should go after him and try to convince him some more. He shook his head once. Minho clearly made up his mind. And so did he.

A rope caught his eye.

Day 3: Midnight 

"I don't even know why I'm helping you." Minho grunted.

"Because you have good heart." Thomas replied sarcastically.

"Ha ha."

They tugged at the rope, pulling Alby higher against the wall.

"I don't even know why I'm bothering to help you with this." Minho complained. "We should focus on trying to stay alive, not risk our lives by helping a dead man."

The rope slipped, Thomas felt his palms sting in pain from the friction. He tightened his hold nonetheless.

"We just need to get him against the wall and hide him. I don't know about you, but I'm not leaving him on the ground as supper for the grievors." Thomas grit his teeth and kept tugging at the rope with resolved determination.

Minho scowled behind him, but didn't press the issue. They kept pulling when a distant howl interrupted the silence. Tensing, they paused and listened.

"Shit." Minho muttered behind him in the dark.

"Come on." Thomas said urgently. "We need to hurry." Clenching the ropes in a firm grip, Thomas pulled with all of his strength. They managed to pull Alby half way up the wall. He laid dangling against the wall, still unconscious.

"If we fucking die tonight Thomas, I'm gonna kill you." Minho warned.

Thomas let out a weak laugh. "That doesn't make sense. How the hell are you going kill me, if you'd be already dead?"

"Shut it, Greenie"

Thomas rolled his eyes. "How long until you guys stop calling me that?"

"What? You mean Greenie? Do you prefer for us to call you newbie then? Or green bean? Or..."

A sly grin formed over his features. "Or do you prefer we call you _Tommy_?"

Thomas's face paled, remembering Newt's last words. "Huh? W What "

Minho smirked behind him. "I didn't know you and Newt are already at the nickname stage."

"We're _not_." Thomas denied with hesitation. "That was the first time he called me that."

"Newt likes to keep to himself, but everyone has been noticing how buddy -buddy you two have been."

"We're just friends. And he is one of the few people here who is remotely nice to me."

"Maybe it's because everyone thinks you're a crazy bastard and ..." Minho abruptly paused. "Shit. Did you hear that?"

Thomas looked at him over his shoulder. "What are you ..."

"Shh!" It was a clicking sound. Metal scraping the ground, a screeching sound growing louder by the second. The distant howl they heard before drew near. Thomas gulped soundlessly and tried to focus on pulling Alby as high as possible before, whatever that thing was, found them. Minho, on the other hand, had a different idea.

"Fuck! It's coming!" He said panicking. "We don't have time for this."

Thomas pulled and shouted. "Minho, focus!"

"No. I AM NOT going to die today." He declared. Thomas gripped the rope harder when he felt the pull become much harder to hold onto.

"No! No! Minho don't fucking let go! Don't you dare " But it was too late. Thomas tripped over his feet. His grip on the rope weakening. Minho ran and didn't even look back once. Thomas cursed under his breath. Desperately, he slid toward the wall and hurriedly started to tie the rope to one of the dead twigs wrapped around the wall before Alby crashed to the ground and all pulling would have been for nothing. The scraping of metal and clicking was so close, Thomas knew the grievor was just behind the wall. Tying the rope tightly, he slid inside the vines and hid behind the them.

Dammit, Minho!

Day 4: Close to Sunrise

Thomas ran and ran. He knew that the grievor would find him eventually and he couldn't risk letting it discover him when Alby was close by. So he set some distance between him and Alby, leaving him hanging against the wall. But that only made it easier for the grievor to locate him since there was nowhere for him to hide. It was dark, but Thomas was still able to make out the maze and what it contained. Just like he heard from Newt in one of their conversations, it was like a puzzle. Walls opened and closed randomly, a maze that was empty but dragged on for miles. He turned a corner, trying to outsmart the grievor. Instead, it began to crawl against the walls. It looked spider like, its legs clicking and eyes blaring red. Except it wasn't a spider but a ravaged metal beast that had every intention to capture him and possibly consume him. And Thomas couldn't let that happen. So he ran without looking back once. Making left turns and then right ones, not knowing where he was going. Until movement caught his left eye.

It was Minho! He had turned the corner on the other side of him, both of them almost running into each other.

"You came back! Why the hell did you run off?" Thomas panted as he ran, Minho joining him. They ducked as the grievor continued to chase after them. Its legs slammed against the walls it crawled on, breaking blocks of the walls with hopes of squashing them.

"I ran off because of that metal shit behind us!" Minho cried defensively. "Quick, this way!" They ran in between two sets of walls, the space way too tight for the grievor to fit through. They reached the other side, looking back and seeing nothing.

"D- Do you think we lost it?" Thomas asked, chest heaving.

Minho rubbed his jaw. "I hope so." They sat against the wall, catching their breaths. It was eerily quiet. The clicking sound stopped and the only sound was the piercing wind. Suddenly, the ground beneath them rumbled and the grievor slammed against the wall in front of them.

"Oh, fuck!" Minho screamed. Quickly, they scrambled onto their feet and sprinted away. The grievor screeched loudly behind them, its piercing sound cutting through the wind. At one point, Thomas found himself separated from Minho again. But the grievor continued to chase after him. It seemed like Thomas was the unlucky one that the grievor chose to go after.

"Oh god." Thomas huffed as he ran. "Shit. Shit. _Shit_!" Ten feet away, Thomas saw Minho in front of him, waving his arms. The walls in the maze were moving again. At this rate, Thomas knew that they would end up dead if they kept this up. Lose the grievor. Grievor finds them again. Go back to running. Lose the grievor again. And so on. At one point, someone was going to win and Thomas knew that he and Minho didn't have the energy to keep this up all night. They were only human, while that, that thing was not. As he glanced at the walls that began to rumble and move, an idea formed into his head. A crazy one, no doubt, but if it would work, it would save their lives. Instead of running toward Minho, he ran to the left. Right toward the other moving walls. The grievor behind picked up its pace, just like Thomas assumed. He kept running until he reached the sets of walls he saw moving. He paused in front of them and turned. As soon as the grievor reached him, he ran as quick as he could between the walls. The brainless grievor, without haste and any thinking, ran after him. Once Thomas reached the other side, he turned right in time to see the walls slam together and kill the grievor. One of its legs shot between the walls, a liquid oozing out from it.

Thomas stepped back and felt his heart drop. Was this what it felt like to be so close to death?

"Just like I said before..."

Thomas twisted around to see Minho walk up beside him with a wild look in his eye.

"You're one crazy bastard."


	6. Chapter 6

Day 4: Afternoon 

Newt POV 

After managing to convince Gally and the others to round up everyone for a Glade meeting, Newt snatched Thomas before he could escape with Chuck.

"Mind if I borrow him for a while, Chuck?" He asked the kid with a tight smile. Pulling Thomas by the arm, Newt didn't wait for the boy's response. He didn't see Chuck's knowing smile as he watched them saunter away.

Newt led Thomas outside, taking him to a secluded area where they won't be interrupted. Thomas followed behind him obediently. Looking over his shoulder at him, Newt could tell that he was a bit nervous. After making sure there was no around, Newt halted. Thomas ran into his back before he could turn around and face him. In other circumstances Newt would have found that funny, except he was not in the mood for laughing right now. What he wanted was to make a point to him right now.

"Ow."

"Idiot." Newt rolled his eyes.

Thomas rubbed his jaw and frowned at him. "I thought we were going to have a meeting? Why ..."

"We are. But first I need to tell you something. "

"You want to yell at me for going in the maze, am I right? Look...Newt, I- "

"No, _you_ look. I told you repeatedly, you are _not_ allowed to- "

"I wasn't thinking at that time! I just saw Alby and I just ...I don't know!"

"Obviously you weren't thinking, you _arse_! Of all the... _argh_! And because of your idiocy, you almost got yourself _killed_!"

"But I didn't die, _did_ I? So why are you -"

"That's not the point! You broke the rules! You saw Gally's face when you got back, did you not? You think he'll let this slip? Everyone in the Glade are already suspicious of you, and now on top of that, you do this! _Dammit_ , Tommy, I can't keep siding with you before they start questioning me as well!"

"Then _don't_! I didn't ask you!"

"You think I want to? But I have no choice!"

"What the hell do you mean? I never asked you- "

"Because we're bloody friends, you damn idiot!" Newt huffed angrily and peered at the brown haired boy who had frozen. Thomas watched him silently, and Newt found himself shifting uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze.

" _What_?" He finally spat.

"Make me a runner."

Newt blinked. "WHAT?"

"I said, make me a runner, Newt." Thomas repeated slowly, enunciating each word with care. "That way, I'm not breaking any rule and you don't have to worry about-"

"No." Newt immediately shook his head. He was _not_ letting him go out there again. Not after the stunt he pulled. Making him a runner would solve some things, like the whole issue of allowing him in the maze, but the Glade won't like it. He has been here for what, four days? Making him a runner after such short amount of time was too risky. There was a lot of faults with this decision. First, he had no experience. One stay overnight hardly is good enough for him to run in the maze from sunrise to sundown every day. As a previous runner himself, Newt could confirm that. Second, he didn't want Gally to take this the wrong way. After Alby's condition, Newt suspected that the boy was already on his edge. His constant blaming on Thomas was sure to spark something eventually. And didn't want to test that. Not now.

"Why not? You know how much I want to become a runner!" Thomas complained. He took a step toward Newt, eyes pleading.

Newt avoided his gaze and tried to focus on the looming maze walls in the distance. If he thought he'd take pity on him and cave easily, he was in for a surprise.

"I know I broke rules, but _think_ about it. After one day in the maze, I was able to kill a grievor. W- Well, somehow managed to." Thomas said uncertainly. "Although I don't really know how I did it, to be honest. I'm still shocked about it actually." He shrugged innocently.

Instead of looking proud, he looked like a guilty child who just got caught stealing from the cookie jar. Newt felt a smile creep up his lips, but he held it back. His modesty was alluring.

"A-Anyway! Remember how I told you that this maze was just like a game? And how the grievors were just like a obstacles to our goal?" He continued.

Newt nodded once. How could he forget? It was their first memory as new found friends. He remembered how after the day, he kept replaying their conversations and how he found himself enjoying his company.

"Maybe the only reason you guys haven't found a way out the maze is because of your refusal to change your ways. If you sit around, and run around the maze, you're not going anywhere. Three years you guys have been doing this and haven't found a way out!"

Newt rubbed his left arm and said coolly, "You do realize that you're implying that we fight the grievors?"

"And what if I am?"

Newt scowled. "You're bloody suicidal, you know that?"

"Oh come on, Newt!"

"No _you_ come on, Tommy! This is crazy! You're telling me that you want us to face these monsters and risk our lives? The whole point of this is to avoid them when you go out to the maze. Find a way out the maze, not engage in some bloody grievor hunting activity!"

"Grievor hunting activity?" Thomas grinned.

Newt ignored his teasing smile, although it was hard to. "Oh _shut_ up, you know what I mean!"

Thomas shook his head, becoming serious."Have you once considered where the grievors come from? Where they go during the day? Where they live? Have you?" Thomas fired.

Newt pursed his lips. "That doesn't really matter. What matters is that- "

"This is why you guys are never going to find a way out! Because you all are so staunch on following the bloody rules!"

Newt gawked in annoyance. He was starting to realize this argument was going nowhere. He had originally planned on yelling at him a bit and then scaring him from going into the maze again. And instead? He was lecturing him and trying to convince him to let him go out again...and...and fight grievors! Was he daft? Although deep inside, Newt didn't want to admit it, that he was right. At this rate, the way things were, there was no way in hell they'll ever leave the Glade. Maybe accepting change wasn't so bad... Newt frowned.

And then with an afterthought, he smirked, " _Bloody_ rules?"

Thomas blanched. "Further proof that I have been hanging around you for too long, so shut up."

Newt laughed. And then sighed deeply.

"Come on, Newt." Thomas whispered softly, stepping closer. His persuasive chocolate brown eyes were planted on him, Newt almost shivered by their intensity.

"Let me become a runner. I want to, no, I need to go back out there."

Frustrated, Newt shot him an exasperated look. "Why do you need to back out there? Do you think you'll find a way out for us?"

"Maybe."

Newt glared at him. He wasn't impressed with his confidence.

"And you're telling me your not afraid of being killed?" Newt questioned bitterly.

"If I do get killed, it wouldn't matter. I would die at least knowing I died trying to fight for a way out." Thomas replied swiftly without hesitation, full of determination.

Newt locked his jaw and stared at his feet. Gritting his teeth, he replied quietly, "It would matter to me."

Thomas raised a brow. "What? What did you say?"

Newt felt his cheeks heat up and replied quickly, stumbling over the words. "I said, it would matter to me."

"What?"

"I SAID IT WOULD MATTER TO ME IF YOU DIED, YOU ARSE!"

Thomas eyes widened and Newt felt his face getting hotter. "You're a git, you know that Tommy?" Newt whined. Scowling, he started to walk back. He didn't want Thomas to see him blushing, because he knew he was (why did he find himself becoming embarrassed around him more and more?). It was ridiculous! Newt just hoped that Thomas would think his reaction was because he was done with their conversation. Also, he just realized that their conversation (or argument), lasted way longer than necessary. He just hoped it wasn't too long enough that Gally was pissed.

"W-What? What do you mean?" Thomas stuttered, catching up to him. "Wait, why am I git? What did I do?"

Newt inwardly groaned. "Nothing. It's nothing."

Newt didn't look at him as he walked back. He increased his pace. "We need to head back, we're late for the meeting." He tried to sound business like. Thomas nodded, and didn't say anything. Newt snuck a glance at him and felt himself blush deeper.

Thomas's face was just as red as his face was.


	7. Chapter 7

Day 4

Thomas POV

Thomas stared at Newt's back as they walked back to where the rest of the Glade were waiting. He knew that Newt would be upset with him for running into the maze. They had discussed it before, discussions that often transformed into heated arguments, how he was forbidden to enter the maze. So when he began to scold him, he was not in the slightest surprised. And Thomas noticed another thing. Newt didn't really say in words that he was not allowed back into the maze. He didn't necessarily say "you're forbidden to enter the maze" exactly, just that he could not enter because other Glader's disapproved and that it was against the rules. Instead, he only spouted excuses that the Glade wouldn't like it, not whether he did or not.

Thomas knew if he wanted to learn more about the maze, he had to go back out there. He just hoped that after this meeting, things would swing his way. Although he doubted it would. But first, before anything, he needed to convince Newt. Thomas knew that he'd regret his actions later on, but he was practically desperate. He was going to resort to begging if he had to. He needed to make sure that Newt would help him become a runner. After all, he was the leader with Alby being out of commission. And after their argument, Thomas knew that his relationship with Newt was altering. He didn't really understand how and where it was heading to, but that it was heading in a direction where he knew that it would be advantageous to him in this situation. Later, he would analyze and evaluate the status of it.

"Newt..." He began.

"What?" The scrawny blond didn't turn and continued walking.

He wondered if he was still mad at him. Thomas scratched the back of his neck and sighed. This was going to be difficult.

"Before we go in, I want to make sure of something."

"And what is that?" Newt replied stiffly, still avoiding eye contact.

"I need to know that you'll convince them that I didn't intentionally wanted to break the rules and convince Gally "

Newt sharply turned toward him."But you did! You _did_ break the rules!" He yelled. Newt stepped closer to him, eyes narrowing.

Thomas tried not to flinch and remain composed. Was he really that upset with him for going into the maze? Numerously Thomas had told him how eager he was to go inside the maze, it wasn't a surprise. Okay... he did run in mindlessly and spent overnight stuck in a maze full of metal beasts, but he still thought Newt was bit on the overreacting side.

"And what makes you think you're in any position to bargain?" Newt continued.

Thomas stared at the blond boy. He was right, of course. After his trip in the maze and breaking the rules, he bet that no one in the glade trusted him anymore. Maybe everyone but Chuck. He hoped Newt was also another. He needed him on his side the most. As a friend and for support. But his reaction so far was starting to worry him. Thomas knew he couldn't just enter the meeting room and find out that he was not allowed into the maze anymore. For some reason, Thomas knew he had Minho's support and that he'll vouch for him. But most importantly, he also wanted Newt's support.

"Newt, please. Just think about it." Thomas pleaded. "You know as well as I do that we can't keeping living like this. Surrounded by maze walls and trapped. If running around the maze hasn't led to anyone finding a way out after three whole years, then maybe fighting the grievors is our only shot. I know it."

"How?"

"How? What do you- "

" _How_ do you know that's our only shot, Tommy? Tell me!"

Thomas wanted to tell him right then about the memories and dreams he kept having that have been confusing him since he got there, but he didn't want to risk it. Not after he got this far into the process of convincing him. Thomas knew that Newt would probably think he was lying if he told him, since no one in the Glade remembered anything beside their names.

"I just know." Thomas muttered lamely, silently begging him not question him any farther. "Please, Newt. I need to know you got my back in there."

 _Don't make me beg, Newt!_

Newt crossed his arms and then ruffled his blond hair with a faint grimace. He uncrossed his lanky arms and finally answered him. "Fine. Fine, _dammit_! But I could only do so much so- "

Thomas beamed brightly. Without thinking, he pulled Newt into a fierce hug, cutting him off. Since the beginning of their argument, he was worried that Newt wouldn't listen to him. Knowing that he was going to help him, Thomas felt beyond pleased.

Muttering his thanks into Newt's exposed neck, Thomas felt him freeze in his embrace.

"T- Tommy, w -what the hell " Newt spluttered, shoving against him and trying to get away. Only then did Thomas realize his embarrassing reaction. In a heart beat, he released him and stepped back hastily.

"Right, sorry..."

"Y- Yeah."

Awkwardly, they avoided each other's gazes. Inwardly, Thomas cursed himself while his heart pounded frantically in his chest. Well there you go, he just fucked things up. Now he'd definitely think he was crazy. Maybe he was.

"Sorry." Thomas mumbled quickly, "I, uh, just thank you."

Before Newt could respond, the door to the meeting room flew open. Winston's face popped behind the door.

"Oh, there you are Newt! We were waiting for you. Gally is getting impatient and the others were wondering if something happened." Winston exclaimed cheerfully, unaware of the tense atmosphere between the boys.

"Nothing happened. I was just talking to Tommy." Newt reassured him and Thomas exhaled silently. He was relieved to hear him call him Tommy again, and that he didn't screw up things between them. As he followed Newt into the room, he wondered what in his damn mind made him initiate the hug. They were friends, were they not? Best friends even. And he was sure that hugging your best friend was absolutely normal. And yet...why did it feel like it was not? He chose not to think about it. For now.

Thomas watched Newt move to stand in the middle of the large room. Despite his scrawny body and five feet eight inches height, he seemed to echo an aura of authority in the room. He was still wearing his saddle with his attached weapons on his backside. The calm, stoic expression he usually wore was back on his face as he regarded everyone in the room with seriousness. Thomas sat on one of the crates, away from the other gladers. Thomas could tell that at least half of them were sending him wary glances, while Gally was making his hatred and distrust obvious with his deathly glares he was shooting across the room.

Couple of seconds later, Minho sauntered over and sat next to him. Thomas nodded hello to him as he sat down.

"Alright." Newt began. "As you all know by know, Alby has been stung and- "

"And Greenie managed to kill a fucking grievor." Gally intercepted darkly. "Not to mention he broke the rules!" Newt frowned, hating to be interrupted.

"I know, let me -"

Thomas glanced at Gally's red face and knew he wasn't going to back down. Newt being the leader or not. It seemed that it did not matter to Gally, for he continued rambling.

"No. No! I'm done with acting like everything is okay." Gally jabbed his finger toward Newt, nostrils flaring. "Because things haven't been okay since he got here!" Gally shot Thomas another glare that made him squirm in his seat.

Thomas awkwardly watched them. He wanted to defend himself but he couldn't. Not when every time someone got stung, the first thing they did was blame him of all people! How would he defend himself against such evidence? Not to mention how he did break the rules, irrational behavior or not. Helping Minho and saving Alby, it seemed that both incidents hardly weighed anything against his rule breaking. He was screwed.

"Calm down, Gally." Newt raised both his hands, palms outward. "We're- "

"Don't tell me to calm down, dammit Newt!" Gally interrupted roughly. Stomping in front of Newt, he shoved his face near his, teeth blaring. "Ever since this shuck got here, shit has been happening! He doesn't follow the rules! Remember the rules? Rules that kept us all together and in check? What would Alby say if he was awake? As second- in- command, you of all people should know how important they are!" He growled with frustration. The rest of the boys in the room watched the exchange silently.

Thomas noticed Minho shift restlessly beside him. " _Fine_!" Newt spoke through his teeth, not intimidated by the boy's height and steaming anger. "He shouldn't have broken the rules, but arguing right now won't fix anything!"

"I say..." Gally stepped back, nodding toward Thomas. "We punish him. We can't just let that shuck face strut around and break the damn rules all the time!"

"If he didn't break them, I would have been dead and wouldn't have been able to bring Alby back." Minho stood up suddenly. Thomas looked up at him in surprise. He knew that Minho would side with him, but he didn't think he would actually defend him.

Minho saw him gaping and winked. Gally gawked. " _You_ too, Minho? So what are you saying? That it's okay to break the rules now?"

Minho scoffed. "Of course not, but I don't think we should punish him. I don't know about you, but this guy saved my ass. And did more than any of us Runners did in one damn night. He killed a fucking grievor, Gally." The Asian boy exclaimed in excitement.

Gally did not share the excitement, since he began to shake his head with a disdain, unimpressed look. His face was set in stone showing complete rage.

Thomas noticed it. "Um Minho, I don't think- " He blubbered nervously, only for his voice to be overshadowed by Gally's.

"We're not supposed to be killing those monsters, you idiot!" Gally hollered, clenching his fists. "This goes against everything we know! We've been coexisting with them and we survived this long. But killing one? This changes everything and we don't know if it's a good thing! Everything that has been happening here started ever since he got here! What if killing one of them makes things worse? How do we know that killing them is the right thing?" The boys in the meeting room fell silent, digesting his words.

Newt stepped back and crossed his arms. His eyes lowered in concentration. Thomas watched him and then looked at Minho who slumped back down on the crate beside him.

Finally, Newt interrupted the silence. "You're right, Gally." He said. "Thomas should be punished."

Gally's mouth fell open in disbelief. Then, his shoulders sagged in relief after noticing Newt's serious expression which automatically told him he finally yielded.

"He broke the rules. We can't let him just do that freely and get away with it." He said dangerously.

Thomas's shoulder slumped. He felt betrayed. Hurt. He tried to meet the blond boy's eyes, but they remained planted on Gally and everyone else but him. Newt rubbed his arms, a habit Thomas began to notice in him when he was in deep thought.

"You're right. We can't have anyone just break the rules just because they want to. And we can't have non-runners running around in the maze without permission. I'm not sure if I agree with you on whether or not grievors should be killed, but like you said, Tommy broke the rules and has to be punished." Newt said calmly.

Gally grunted appreciatively, obviously pleased with Newt's small speech. Thomas couldn't believe it! He was siding with Gally, even after he promised that he'd help him out. Why? "So as punishment..." Newt continued with a fixed look, surveying the room before continuing. "One night in the pit. No food." He blurted.

Gally kicked a nearby crate in protest. " _What_? No, Newt! You think that will stop him from going out in the maze again? At least make it a week to teach him a lesson!"

Newt shook his head, frowning. "I wasn't done. I'm also making him a runner. It's against the rules for non-runners to go in the maze, so I decided that by tomorrow..." He turned around and looked at Thomas. Thomas sat up straighter, extremely shocked at the sudden turn of events. "...You're a Runner."

Gally cursed out loud and began to spout more complaints. While other gladers stared in shock, Chuck looked happy. Minho clamped him on the back with a cheerful smile. Thomas kept staring at Newt. Over the sounds of chatter and Gally's frustrations, Thomas peered at the blond boy with grateful look. He wanted to get up and hug him like before, but quickly dismissed that idea. Mentally, he crossed hugging off an invisible list. Instead, he settled on expressing his emotions through words.

"Thanks, Newt." He said quietly. Newt didn't reply. He just rubbed his arms and lowered his eyes.

Thomas thought he heard him mumble, "Don't make me regret it", but he wasn't sure. The meeting room was too loud.

Day 4: Night

For the night, Thomas was tossed into the pit. Just like the punishment was decided, he wasn't given any food that night. Despite his stomach's grumbling, he didn't care. What mattered to him at that moment was the fact that he was now a Runner. A Runner. Just like Minho, he had access into the maze. Freely.

Thomas was beyond grateful Newt followed through with his promises, even after all the desperate convincing from his side and Newt's stubbornness. In the dark, Newt sat against the walls of the pit and recalled how he was thrown in here the first day he got here. He was about to doze off when he started to see images flutter in his mind. Hospital bed. Someone calling his name. A voice of a woman. Water. A laboratory. And then darkness. He was awoken by the sound of someone hissing. Thomas was pulled from his dreams.

Sitting up, he squinted up at the entrance of the pit. It was Chuck. Chuck had stopped by and snuck him an apple. He threw it inside between the holes of the wooden door. Thomas caught the green apple easily.

Eternally grateful for befriending such a sweet kid, he thanked the boy earnestly. "Man, I can't believe you defeated a grievor." The boy said in awe after awhile.

Figures that he'd still be obsessing over that. Thomas couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "I'm not sure if that's something I should be proud of anymore."

"What? Of course! That's bad ass!" Chuck cried in disagreement. "Is it because what Gally said? Gally is just jealous, don't listen to him."

Thomas took a bite from the apple and just nodded with a nonchalant shrug. "I don't want to get on that dude's bad side." Thomas admitted, chewing. "I think after today, he's going to be on my ass more than he was before."

Chuck agreed. "I guess. But I wouldn't worry about him. He can't do anything since he isn't the leader. Newt is the leader now."

Thomas took another bite of the apple and mumbled, "Thank god for that." Chuck grinned. "But watch out. You don't want everyone to think that Newt is giving you special attention just because he is the leader and you two are chummy together."

Thomas spit out chewed pieces of apple in response, choking a bit. Immediately, he regretted his actions after realizing he just wasted precious food. But Chuck's words took priority and he needed to address that. "WE. ARE. NOT. CHUMMY!" Thomas denied, sitting up and eyeing the boy in frustration. "And he isn't giving me special attention." He added in clarification, frowning a bit.

What gave him that idea?! Things were already awkward between him and Newt as it is. He didn't need to add any more confusion on top of things!

"Whatever you say, Tommy." Chuck rolled his eyes and giggled childishly.

Thomas scowled. " Don't call me Tomm- "

"Why?" Chuck interrupted in amusement. For the first time, Thomas had an unbearable urge to strangle that boy. "Only Newt is allowed to call you that?"

"I'm only allowed to call him what?" Someone with a British accent drawled from behind Chuck.

Both Thomas and Chuck yelped in surprise. Thomas knew that voice anywhere. Newt came from behind Chuck and knelt down beside him, looking down at Thomas in the pit.

"I was saying -"

"Hey, Newt!" Thomas quickly interrupted Chuck before he could embarrass him any further. "What brings you here?"

Newt raised an eyebrow, eyes flitting between Chuck and Thomas. Apparently he decided not to question their previous conversation and missed the glares Thomas was sending to Chuck secretly.

He answered his question. "I came to talk to you." Newt replied. "But first, I want to ask...How's the pit?" He asked slyly.

Thomas groaned. He hoped Newt didn't come here to tease him too! "Oh, just cozy. Would you like to join me?" Thomas said sarcastically.

"No thanks." Newt smirked. "Then that wouldn't be quite a punishment, now would it?" Thomas rolled his eyes and shook his head lightly.

"Why? I actually think being stuck here with you would be punishment." Thomas cracked an amused smile.

"Well, I disagree." Newt returned his smile, eyes dancing. "I have yet to see you complain once every time we hung out together. You crave my company, admit it."

"Trust me, I haven't said anything because I didn't want to hurt your feelings." He denied heartlessly, trying to hide another smile.

"Ow. You wound me, Tommy." Newt pretended his heart was just stabbed, clutching his chest.

Thomas chuckled. "You'll survive."

"I'm sure I will. It is you who is in the cold, dark pit alone, not me."

"I already asked if you wanted to join me, idiot."

Holy shit, w- were they flirting? Chuck seemed to think so. They almost forgot he was there.

"Well...I'll leave you two to release your pent up sexual frustration. Bye!" And he jogged away, leaving them alone.

Thomas choked on his tongue, while Newt blushed a deep shade of red and scowled back at Chuck. Clearing his throat, Thomas decided that it was a good time to change the subject.

"So...what did you come here to ask me?" He asked casually. Newt twisted to look back at him.

"Oh...yeah. I just came to check up on you and tell you Alby hasn't woken up yet." Thomas cringed, remembering the last time he saw Alby. This is all your fault. His harsh words rung in his head and Thomas grimaced.

Sighing, he slumped down on the hard floor of the pit.

Newt watched him with a concerned expression. "Something wrong?" Thomas folded his hands together and decided he might as well tell him what he was hiding.

"Remember what Alby said when he woke up?" Thomas began, his voice unsure. Would he believe him? Newt curled his fingers around the wooden twigs of the caged door and furrowed his brows.

"Yeah, I do. What are you getting at?" "N -Newt..." Thomas looked up at him. "I think...I think Alby and Ben was right. This...what is going on...I think it is my fault."

Newt stared at him in surprise. "What the bloody hell you mean it's your fault, Tommy?"

"I know you won't believe me, but I have been getting my memories back." Thomas explained. "I get these visions and I see myself in them and I just know that this maze and everything in it, that I'm somehow involved. I still don't know how much I'm involved, but I know I am. It's weird. I keep getting these flashes in my head and I see myself doing things and..." He trailed off, swallowing hard.

Newt clenched his jaw.

"Newt, I think i'm one of them." Thomas admitted, biting his lower lip and his shoulders sagged. It felt relieving to finally tell someone. To get it off his chest. He couldn't stop blaming himself for everything that happened. What Gally said, it was true. It was his fault that gladers were getting stung because he was somehow involved in this mess. Which is one reason why he wanted to become a Runner so terribly.

"It doesn't matter." Newt's warm voice broke into his thoughts and Thomas looked up at him sharply.

"What?"

"It doesn't matter. Anything of it." Newt's brown eyes pierced his. "Because what we were before, what life we had, it's gone now. Instead of dwelling on who we were before, we should focus on who we are now. And what we do from now on." Once again, Newt proved it to him how much of a great leader he was. He always knew the right words to say.

"I know that, but..." Thomas drifted off, doubtful.

"Tommy. You're a _Runner_ now." Newt pressed on with determination. "You need to focus on getting us out of here, remember? Stop thinking on who were before and what you did, and think about what you're going to do from hereon."

Thomas nodded, caving in. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Newt stood up and brushed the back of his pants. It was dark, but Thomas could still make out the blondish color of his ruffled hair and make out the expression on his face. It was now calm and composed again.

"I know you're going to run out into the maze the next chance you get..."Newt began. "Probably as soon as you're out of the pit." He pursed his lips, looking at him with his calculating eyes. Thomas didn't say anything. He was right.

"But at least promise me that you won't do something stupid like get yourself killed."

A sly smile crossed Thomas's face. He was tired, but he couldn't help taking a swipe at him. "Why? Will you cry if I did?" He asked mockingly.

"You wish." Newt smirked and walked back. Still smiling, Thomas closed his eyes. That night, he dreamt of the dark shadows of the maze, the clicking sounds of the grievors, and the silhouette of a scrawny blond boy.

End Day Four.


End file.
